


Stestiel Interaction #11

by halewinchester



Series: Stestiel Interactions [11]
Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bromance, Crack, Crossover, Gen, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-30
Updated: 2012-11-30
Packaged: 2017-11-19 22:38:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halewinchester/pseuds/halewinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Dean bond a little. (somewhat intended to be after Stestiel Interaction #7)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stestiel Interaction #11

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by verbhisnoun's request (on tumblr):  
> "Stiles and Cas have fallen asleep, after a long day of pie and busty asian beauties. (if cas doesnt sleep he is watching stiles sleep) Derek and Dean are sitting drinking casually, and then they start to talk about how they met stiles/cas. Aiming for kinda deep, but funny at the same time. Go."

The room was silent.

No one wanted to risk waking Stiles.

Derek took a couple beers out of the fridge and sat down across from Dean, who was finishing off his sixth meal for the day. Cas was sitting on the bed next to Stiles, watching the boy sleep.

It was sweet.

Something that seemed uncharacteristic for any of the men.

Derek twisted off the two caps, downing a few gulps from one bottle and sliding the other one across the table to Dean. He watched Stiles a while longer, relieved the kid was finally sleeping peacefully.

“How’d you two meet?” Dean asked, keeping his voice down.

“He wandered onto my property and then accused me of murdering my sister,” Derek answered, tipping his bottle back and swallowing more of his liquor.

“Did you?”

Derek shook his head, finally taking his eyes off Stiles. Dean glanced over at Cas and Derek followed his gaze to see Cas give a reassuring nod.

“How’d you wind up with the psychic?”

“Cas’ll tell you he raised me from perdition.”

“And you?” Derek turned his attention back to Dean.

Dean shrugged, crossing his ankles as his feet claimed a second chair.

“I’d say he was close enough.” Dean smiled, gulping down more of his beer.

“And now you can’t get rid of him…”

“Tried once. He kicked my ass.”

Derek scoffed. Cas certainly didn’t seem like the type to put up much of a fight.

“Trust me. You wouldn’t stand a chance either.”

Derek looked over at Cas, but his focus was on Stiles.

“Take it you can’t get rid of him either.”

“I could. But he saved my life a couple times.”

“Really? The kid?”

Derek glared at Dean’s condescending grin. Dean merely chuckled, leaning forward and taking another swig.

“How many times?” Dean asked.

“It’s not like I keep count.”

“That means more than once…” Dean realized.

Derek’s jaw tensed, reaching for his beer.

“C’mon. How many times?”

But Derek simply took another gulp of his beer.

“Cas. How many?”

“Seven,” Cas answered.

“That’s not—”

“Eight, if you are willing to give him credit for that strange bullet.” Cas took his eyes off Stiles to look at Derek. “I can remind you of each time, if you would like.”

“No.”

Derek made the mistake of looking back at Dean. He was doing nothing to hide his enjoyment of the situation.

“There were extenuating circumstances,” Derek tried to reason.

“He’s a teenager!” Dean laughed.

“And too stubborn to run when I tell him to.”

“What kind of trouble do you get into? I mean, eight times?”

“Seven. The bullet didn’t count. And I’m sure it’s not the only one that doesn’t count. How does he even—”

“You think a kid that talks as much as him wouldn’t brag about saving pretty boy tough guy?”

Derek finished his beer and got up to fetch a second one.

“Get me one too, princess.”

A low growl left Derek’s lips as he passed behind Dean. Dean grinned at his reaction, taking out a few pieces of candy from his pocket.

“You eat like a twelve-year-old,” Derek remarked, putting down a second bottle next to Dean.

“Sugar might make people smile. You should try it.” Dean tossed Derek a Halloween-sized Aero.

Derek caught the piece of chocolate out of instinct, but he had no intention of eating it. Derek put the brightly wrapped treat down on the table and cracked open his beer, swallowing a few more gulps and ignoring the sweet.

“Sour wolf,” Dean grumbled, flicking a bite-sized Aero in his mouth before he even finished his Crunch. “Even Zoolander would drink an Orange Mocha Frappuccino.”

“I am not a male model.”

“My brother, king of salad cups and heart-smart cuisine crap was willing to put junk food in his mouth. You. You’re an underwear model.”

“Stiles has a different theory,” Cas chimed, leaving Stiles for the first time all night.

“Oh, this is going to be good.”

“You realize most of what he tells you is out of comic books,” Derek argued.

“He found one with which you share great resemblance with. Do you have a computer?”

“No. That was always Sammy’s thing.”

“Very well. I will collect the comparison myself.”

“From outside, right?” Dean insisted.

“Right. Yes. Outside.”

Cas marched outside, but returned before the door even finished shutting. Derek looked over at Dean, but the man merely chuckled and tossed back another swig. Cas put a stumpy cat down on the table, facing it towards Dean. Dean put his beer bottle down, taking a closer look. His jaw dropped as his eyes darted between Derek and the feline.

Dean forced himself not laugh as he stretched forward to spin the cat around. Grumpy. There was no other way to describe the creature’s expression. Derek felt his face tense up and Dean just burst out laughing.

“Dude. You’re a grumpy cat!”


End file.
